


Wound Up Like A Spring

by orphan_account



Series: So There Is Nothing to Explain [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Biblical References, Dean Winchester Bears the Mark of Cain, Dean Winchester Loves The Impala, Dreams, Dubious Consent, Episode: s09e22 Stairway to Heaven, First Kiss, Internal Conflict, Literary References & Allusions, M/M, Mark of Cain, My First AO3 Post, Mythology References, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-13 09:15:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16014875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He’s just merging onto the highway when he starts thinking again. The nightmares. Sure, he's a Winchester-- nightmares are like in the fucking guidebook of being one, --but these are new, though. And they’re about Cas. Which isn’t. Well. It’s certainly unprecedented, but the source is dubious. It’s not some freaky ‘hellgate’ thing because the nightmares aren’t that sort of creepy. That’s not to say they aren’t fucked up. It’s just that…





	1. wound up like a spring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s just merging onto the highway when he starts thinking again. The nightmares. Sure, he's a Winchester-- nightmares are like in the fucking guidebook of being one, --but these are new, though. And they’re about Cas. Which isn’t. Well. It’s certainly unprecedented, but the source is dubious. It’s not some freaky ‘hellgate’ thing because the nightmares aren’t that sort of creepy. That’s not to say they aren’t fucked up. It’s just that… Alright, the first opposite of a dream about Cas was in the warehouse where they met. The lights haven’t shorted out and Bobby isn’t knocked out on the floor. It’s just the two of them, but the tableau is different.

The blade's teeth are small, but sharp-- sharp enough for the tiny, serrated edges to tear the skin. The blue widening, the smell of blood-iron in his nose. And street salt, whisky… Jesus Christ, the way he gasped and _trembled_ …

"I'll be back," says Dean before he grabs his keys, slams the door and leaves. His hand is unsteady, but the coolness of the metal feels good. Too good. ( _like something triple-edged and silv_ ). He forces that thought away when he crosses the dark motel parking lot, unlocks the driver door and slides into Baby, the crackle of her leather seats shifting settling him a little; that goes away when he glimpses himself in the rear mirror. Eyes all bloodshot, tick in his jaw moving. He knows he really shouldn’t be driving right now-- a nagging voice in the back of his head that sounds like Sam's is telling him not to, --but he’s got to get away and he’s got to do it _now_.

He’s just merging onto the highway when he starts thinking again. The nightmares. Sure, he's a Winchester-- nightmares are like in the fucking guidebook of being one, --but these are new, though. And they’re about _Cas_. Which isn’t. Well. It’s certainly unprecedented, but the source is dubious. It’s not some freaky ‘hellgate’ thing because the nightmares aren’t that sort of creepy. That’s not to say they aren’t fucked up. It’s just that… Alright, the first opposite of a dream about Cas was in the warehouse where they met. The lights haven’t shorted out and Bobby isn’t knocked out on the floor. It’s just the two of them, but the tableau is different. Cas, unconscious and shackled, is hanging from one of the lower rafters. He doesn’t look very Holy Tax Accountant either: the trench coat has been thrown off somewhere in the corner and the once crisply starched white button-down is half-shirked off of Castiel’s shoulders.

Cas is unconscious and dream-Dean is having too much fun carving little goddamned crosses with Ruby's knife in the angel's skin like--. ( _a    l    i    s    t    a    i    r)_

And somehow the dreams only get worse after that.

This newest one is in the bunker and it starts with an angel blade. Dean likes the slight sting of the blessed metal. He likes to draw the tip of it along Cas' jaw until his mouth, all red and halved like an apple, opens. _Fuck_. And the way his eyes are all wide and shit when he's sucking Dean's cock and getting skull-fuc--.

He pulls over, cuts the engine. The Impala rumbles to a stop as he bangs his hand hard ( _too soft not enough pain_ ) against the steering wheel and splits a little of the webbing between his left thumb and index finger. The keys gleam and swing wildly, still in the ignition.

"Fuck. _Fuck fuck fuck fuc-._ " His voice is all cracked up ( _full of feelings shit_ ) and Dean knows it's wrong, ( _so fucking wrong but **good**_ ) but he's half-hard just from remembering. He looks down: the bulge in the crotch of his jeans is so visible.

The images of Cas _like that_ keep flicking through his head ( _they ain't stopping either_ ) until he finds his fingertips cool ( _it stings_ ) from touching the brass of the zipper. _Dean needs it_. He slides the zipper down. Pushes the button through its slit ( _fucking hell_ ). Lifts himself up a little to pull his jeans and boxers down ( _softsoft scratching on his thighs the rub of seat leather on the back of his knees_ ).

It's a bit of a shock: the night air blowing stars across his face when his hand finally touches his cock. He lets himself think about it. About how vividly he could imagine the spread of Cas’ thighs, the tight strain of muscles, tendons flexing. About the give, that hot fucking stretch of Dean’s dick _inside_. About Cas blaspheming, praising Dean like Mary Magdalene did Christ, with _tears_ in his eyes, and his mouth bruised and bitten up. About how glorious Cas’ voice would sound when he finally ca-.

“ _Cas_ ,” Dean groans pathetically into the side of the window, his breath fogging up the glass as his hand strips his cock furiously. _So close, so fucking close_. The inside of his mouth tastes like iron; his vision’s bending the edges of things; sweat’s beading at his hairline, prickling a little; his heart’s going hummingbird quick in his chest: he keeps jerking himself off. Dean says the angel’s name over and over until his voice is hoarse. _He can feel it_. Precome is dribbling from the tip of his heavy cock, and he’s starting to feel the skin chaffing, but then he’s over the edge. His hips involuntarily jerk up. He attempts to clench his jaw even as he practically screams. Pleasure overloads Dean’s senses. For a moment, he really feels blind; but slowly the rush of endorphins and whatever the fuck kind of chemicals pumping through his blood are on their way out his system, he’s starting to feel… Something ( ** _guilt_** _shamepleasure **guilt** hotwant **guilt** angernervous these are all the same things_). Too much. A part of this is the Mark, a part of this is not the Mark, and Dean doesn’t know what the fuck he’s supposed to do with that information.

But he feels dirty ( _soul sick dirty maybe_ ) when he cleans himself up, bare-assed against the leather seat and jeans an awkward tangle about his knees. When he’s finished --jeans pulled up, buttoned, zipped, heartbeat slowed, and breathing even –he takes a long look at himself in the rear-view mirror.

His mind plays a trick on him: the mirror reflects back black where there should be green.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, thanks for clicking on and reading !!
> 
> firstly: i hope you enjoyed it. it's perfectly all right if you didn't, as well.
> 
> secondly: i've begun writing this because i'm a big fan of thom yorke/radiohead/atoms for peace, and a few years ago i fell in love with the scotch mist version of radiohead's "jigsaw falling into place." so the chapter title's of this work are actually just lyric pulls, so feel free to guess in the comments section about what the next chapter is about, if you like ! but no pressure, of course.
> 
> here's the link if you'd like to give the song a bit of a listen: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AxvTOxeeFSA
> 
>  
> 
> feel free to give a kudos, comment, or share/recommend to your friends and such ;)


	2. before the animal noises

Castiel wakes up: heart nearly hurting from how fast it’s beating, skin sweaty enough for his shorts to stick to his thighs, and so fucking **_sensitive_**.

Everything feels so good against his skin. The loll of his own head against his shoulder—the prickle of beard stubble against bare skin. The sunlight on his chest—hot and heavy, almost like a body. The rub of the sheets against his legs. The burn of lust he feels in his cock and in the pulse of his blood and the helpless breathlessness is more than enough to convince Castiel of the depth—the fullness, really –of his descent. ( _how far thou hast fallen!_ ) 

Every dreamt image is a confused illumination. One of Dean’s hands holding a cold knife to his throat and touching the serrated blade to the edge of his mouth as he strokes Castiel’s mouth. ( _thy lips are like a thread of scarlet_ ) The pure, raw salt-sour taste of Dean’s come and the soreness of his jaw. A finger, then two, and three, then finally Dean’s cock entering him. ( _his legs are as pillars of marble, set upon sockets of fine gold_ ) The dreams always dilate to a softness towards their ends, though. The knife will fall away, and Dean’s hands will be gentle. Their mouths will gently knock together as they breathe more than kiss in the same space. The drive of Dean’s cock into him will slow into something lazy… and loving… Their eyes will meet. ( _turn away thine eyes from me, for they have me overcome_ ) They will be lovers.

Still, Castiel wakes with the understanding of four things.

1\. Dean, inevitably, will feel shame. It does not matter that the violent content of Dean’s imaginings stem from the Mark of Cain’s influence. Dean Winchester, righteous, dear, Righteous Dean will be unable to understand the complexity of his feelings for Castiel. The loving, the puzzling tenderness Castiel subjects Dean to in the dreams is something Dean will see, full of self-disgust and anger, and misunderstand.

2\. Dean will question his sexuality. It does not matter that Castiel, the angel, is a genderless, spiritual entity made of energy and Grace; it matters that Jimmy Novak, Castiel’s vessel, has the body of a man. Lust, attraction, the act of sex were once, Castiel thought, human things beyond his grasp. But since Castiel is now capable of those things. Even though he is still technically an angel, he has acclimated to this body, this vessel. Sometimes it's as if he had always been graceless, as if he had never fallen. That privately worries him greatly. He may still be able to hear Dean’s sometimes plaintive, sometimes angry, sometimes whimpered calls of his name, but the remaining functions of his grace are greatly diminished. Castiel is nearly as human as Dean is now.

Moreover, as Castiel understands, same-sex love is circumstantially taboo in some places.

3.The Mark of Cain’s influence will grow stronger. Sam and Dean must hunt, but now there will be a compulsion to do so for Dean. The incipient bloodlust Dean is already showing is present in the dreams. The dubious play with knives, the scratching until blood wells and the skin becomes raw is nothing but an illusory placation for now.

Nearly every time Sam calls Castiel-- because Dean refuses --to update him on the Winchesters’ health and hunting progress, Sam will awkwardly tell Castiel of the ways Dean almost single-handedly now takes down whatever abomination(s) they are hunting, the risky, punch-drunk fluidity with which Dean moves now, and his viciousness. They also discuss how Dean has begun to isolate himself-- he only speaks with Sam now, he does not talk to or about Castiel at all –and his focus is almost entirely on finding the next supernatural disturbance and nothing else.

Dean’s morality, too, however flexible it was before, is corrupted. What was once grey has become black and white. Castiel has reflected oftentimes on the similarity his past self-- before Dean –-shares with present-day Dean; it is startling and sad all at once. To raise the Righteous Man from Hell, to send him from Purgatory, to leave Dean at the Men of Letters' bunker only because he asked, having fallen for this one human in a world supporting trillions of life forms… He lost so much for this man, and is going to lose more if they never find a solution; that is why Castiel is afraid. Dean is a good man. But even Dean Winchester’s goodness is not perfect. Dean will be overcome by Darkness soon and it is fast approaching.

4.This fourth thing, Castiel knows, is insignificant, and foolish in the grander scheme of things, but it’s the thing that shakes him: he will never wake up with Dean beside him.

The morning’s wet luster is lesser somehow without Dean’s eyes ( _of doves by rivers of waters, washed with milk and fitly set_ ), Dean’s hair ( _the most fine gold_ ), Dean’s neck, Dean’s chest, Dean’s arms and hands, Dean’s legs, Dean’s feet… The morning is where Castiel, with his flushed, impossibly hard cock, strokes himself to the thought of ‘Let him kiss me with kisses of his mouth.’

Oh, to just kiss Dean Winchester once.

Then twice, thrice, and so on, until he welcomes Castiel’s embrace and recognizes the profundity with which Castiel loves him. It is that thought that makes Castiel tremble in his bed, mouth gasping and sobbing for kisses he will not receive, with wet, dazed eyes. It is this thought that makes Castiel come, his angry, chafed cock splattering white as he groans Dean’s name over and over to an empty room.

( _By night on my bed, I sought him who my soul loveth: I sought him, but I found him not._ )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i forgot to do this in chapter one, so i'm not going to lie to whoever ends up reading this: updates will be Slow, alright? i'm still sorta new to this writing thing and i am very generally a wildly inconsistent person. i have bits and pieces of this thing plotted out, but i'm also in my first year of college, so yea.
> 
> but i digress: i very sincerely hope you enjoy this and have a lovely day/night/evening/afternoon depending on when you see this !! feel free to drop a comment, kudos and share with your friends, if you like ;)


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